


Dark Paradise

by the_nerdy_brunette



Series: Cops and Mobsters [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Everyone's Human, Angst, Cops and Mobsters, Drug Addiction, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 17:17:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/929083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_nerdy_brunette/pseuds/the_nerdy_brunette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles used to be an undercover detective whose task was to infiltrate the mob family known as The Alpha Pack. However, things didn't go according to plan. He fell in love and got in too deep. Now he's having to deal with the results of that. It's not as easy as he thought it would be, especially when everything keeps going back to the Alpha Pack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Paradise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ToDungeons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToDungeons/gifts).



“We’re going to ask you a few questions. Just standard procedure. Is that alright?”

“Yes.”

“You worked undercover for the LAPD?”

“Yes.”

“You worked with narcotics?”

“Yes.”

“Was that the only thing you did?”

There was a brief pause. “No.”

“Can you briefly explain what your objective was to me?”

That earned a glare, mainly because the objective was fully explained in the file on the table. Everything that happened was in that file. There was no reason for it to be repeated.

It was repeated anyway.

“My objective was to find my way into the Cu- The Deucalion family in order to gain information to find a way to pin them down and have them put away.”

“The name you were about to say.. Was it Cunningham?”

“Yes.”

“And Cunningham is what the people closest to Deucalion call themselves, right?”

“Yes. It’s his real name.” A pause. “Tristan Cunningham.”

“They call themselves something else. Is that right?”

“Yes. The Alpha pack.”

“Uh-huh... And these narcotics... You took them yourself?”

The sound of the rough swallow is loud in the room. “Yes.”

“Alright. We’ll come back to that.” She ruffles the papers in front of her until she finds and image and holds it so she can view it but leave it still not visible from the other side of the table. “You were in a relationship with one of your suspects?”

“Yes.”

She turns the photo around now and points at one of the people in the photo. “Him?” It’s the wrong person. People make that mistake a lot though. It was a weakness and a strength at the same time. “Mr. Stilinski?”

“No.” Stiles leans across the table and points to the other twin. “I had a relationship with Aiden. You’re pointing at Ethan.” She raises an eyebrow at him before nodding and setting the photo down again.

“We’ll come back to that.”

* * *

He doesn’t know how much longer he’s in that room, questions being rapidly fired at him without relent. All Stiles knows is that he feels raw now and he really wants a thing of vodka. His fingers itch for other things, but they’re things he can’t have. That’s alright though because he’s clean and sober and he plans on staying that way. Staying that way is the only way he can keep a spot as detective on the force so Stiles is alright with not being able to drink. He’s alright with staying away from drugs.

He is allowed to smoke cigarettes though. Stiles does that a lot because it helps. A pack a day even though his mom died from cancer, and smoking is the quickest way to get it. He thinks she would understand that smoking helps the itch in his fingers.

Walking out of the building, Stiles immediately shoves his hands into his pockets and grabs the pack. While he’s pulling out the second to last cigarette in there, he hears the sound of someone walking up and standing in front of him. His hands are shaking really bad because of the questions that dug just a little too deep into the shadows for him to be so calm about it. He tries a couple of times to light it, but his thumb slips off from the nervous sweat so eventually the person in front of him takes the lighter from him and does it for him.

It takes him a moment to relax, after the smoke has entered his lungs at least twice. Stiles opens his eyes slowly to see Scott giving him a worried look. His best friend’s eyes flicker between him and the cigarette in an unspoken question, like he’s afraid that whatever he asks might push Stiles off the deep end. Everyone he knows has been treating him like that ever since he got out of rehab.

“I’m allowed to smoke.”

Scott’s eyes widen slightly like a deer caught in the headlights. “Dude. I know.. That’s not what I was-”

“I started after rehab. Just because you get clean doesn’t mean you want to stay clean. Smoking helps. I feel like a coil wound so tightly without it. I’m also not allowed to take my Adderall anymore, so that makes things about a million times worse. So if you would stop giving me that worried look like I’m one of your goddamned puppies coming to get stitches, then that would be absolutely fantastic.” He brings the cigarette to his lips with narrowed eyes and inhales deeply, feeling the smoke drag down his lungs before he pushes it back out with satisfaction. Scott makes a face at it before it morphs into a grin, the bad habit of smoking pushed aside as no longer important.

“You know this is the first time we’ve seen each other in nearly a year. Do you know how lost I was without you? Your dad told my mom that I looked like a I had lost a limb or something. It kind of felt like that.” Then, before Stiles can comprehend what’s going on, Scott pulls him into a bone crushing hug that makes him hack up the smoke he just inhaled. Scott’s face is buried in his neck, and he’s pretty sure that the guy is crying.

He says as much. “Dude. Are you crying? You’re really crying aren’t you?” Stiles pulls back to look at his best friend, who wrinkles his nose and wipes at his face with the back of his hand.

“No. I just- You could have been killed! You were on a really dangerous-”

Stiles sighs and drops the cigarette, putting it out with the heel of his shoe. He shoves his hands into his pockets and begins to make his way towards Scott’s car that he’s had ever since he realized that a dirtbike couldn’t be his mode of transportation for all of his life. The door’s locked when he pulls at the handle, and when he turns to look at Scott to motion him to unlock it, the face he is met with isn’t one that gives him warm, fuzzy feelings inside.

The thing is, Scott only uses that look when he’s about to say something serious. Even though Stiles has been gone for nearly a year, the look is still exactly the same. It unnerves him slightly that everyone he knows probably hasn’t changed as much as he has over the course of ten months. Not a lot of them became addicts or alcoholics or stopped checking in with their contact and had decided that living the life of crime and sex and booze and cocaine and parties was worth it. That was what Stiles did, and there’s still a side of him that wishes that he hadn’t been recovered from the field because despite what everyone believes about everything he knew just being his cover, Stiles fell in love.

What he had with Aiden... That wasn’t some rookie becoming too realistically their cover story. It was real. If anyone were to ask him what happened while he was under though, the answer would automatically be that he got in too deep. That’s what stopped him from losing his job and being put under closer observation. The weekly visits to the therapist were enough for him, thank you.

“What?” Stiles drawled out, throwing his hands up slightly in defeat. “What’s the look for, Scott?”

Scott huffed before walking to the other side of the car to look over the roof to speak. “You can’t do that. I know things are hard for you right now-” Stiles heaved out a sigh like he couldn’t believe Scott was saying this. “-but you can’t just walk away from people! Alright? You know everyone is going to talk like that! Erica will probably be worse than I am, and Lydia will probably slap you or claw your face if you try and walk away from her. So just... Don’t do that. Okay?” His eyebrows are raised, and Stiles has the urge to comment on how he just looks like an adorable puppy than someone who just tried to get a serious point across.

Instead, he takes a deep breath and nods. “Alright. Sorry for.. Walking off. It’s just-- Adjustment back to slightly normal life, I guess.” That earns him a firm nod and a grin, like Scott is satisfied by the answer before he unlocks the door so they can go back to the apartment they shared before Stiles went under. He wonders if his room is still freed up or if they moved things back to his dad’s.

* * *

_He had been working to gain his standing for weeks. It wasn’t like he could just show up on the streets and suddenly he was in, suddenly everyone was telling you what you needed to know when you needed to know it. Only rookies thought that was how the streets worked. Stiles wasn’t a rookie._

_So it took him weeks of standing in the alley across from_ The Wolf’s Den _before anything even happened. For then, he had been completely his cover. He was just another teenager that ended up on the street that turned tricks to earn enough cash to get food, sometimes not even enough then. It took weeks of watching the Alpha pack clamber out of the sleek and shiny cars separately like clockwork each week for meetings at the club._

_After the third week, he noticed that one of the twins would glance down the alleyway before turning and shoving his brother lightly with a smile on his face as they ducked through the front doors. It was only every so often though. The times that the boys wouldn’t already show up with girls on their arms. Stiles figured it was a sort of sport for them, because sometimes they would arrive with three or four girls and then leave with a completely different set._

_It didn’t matter though. The times that the twins came alone, a glance was tossed his way. It meant that he had been noticed. It meant his cover was falling into place exactly the way he needed it to for his life not to flash before his eyes._

_Stiles didn’t always stay in that same alley, though. He had to move around sometimes because how else was he going to get food. The other kids knew to stay away though, knew that this alley was his place to turn tricks for people desperate enough to come here and that he wouldn’t hesitate in reminding them of that. Stiles had to do that once, and it made his stomach turn over slightly. But all of this was a cover, and for the cover to stick, you had to become the cover._

_It was a month of living on the streets before something actually happened. Stiles hadn’t been there for it to really happen, either. His pocket was full with a wad of cash and his stomach was empty as empty could get. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually ate something as a full meal, but now he was carrying a McDonald’s bag with two double cheeseburgers, two large fries, and a large Dr. Pepper. It wasn’t really something he could afford all of the time, but the lengths he went to in order to get this cash meant that he deserved it. Plus he was hoping the taste would get rid of the one already lingering in his mouth._

_When he got back to his alley though, someone was looking around it as if they were trying to decide if someone stayed here. Except, after watching him for a while, Stiles realized that there was a franticness almost to the way they were moving around. It was late, and Stiles thought he earned the right to a show for a few minutes at least, so he reached into his bag and grabbed a handful of fries and shoved them into his mouth while the guy shoved his hand through his hair._

_It took him a minute to realize what was happening as it happened, but eventually he caught on because nobody who walked the streets the same way Stiles did wore clothes like that. Also, it was really dark in the alley, but nobody had cheekbones like that either. Well, one other person did._

_“Hey!” He yelled out, swallowing down the mush in his mouth as he walked towards the guy. “What the hell are you even looking for?”_

_The guy, one of the twins, turned around quickly with wide, wild eyes that made Stiles raise an eyebrow in question. Greenish eyes raked over him for a second as if he were a ghost before the twin’s expression was calmed to one of complete coolness. “Oh. So you are still alive.”_

_Stiles snorted in amusement and reached into his bag to grab a few more fries. “Yeah. I am. What’d you think happened? One of the men too scared to tell their wife they like fucking twinks instead of her kidnapped me to use whenever they like?” He pushed the fries into his mouth, wrapping his lips around them as suggestively as he could while looking straight at the twin._

_“No.” The word came out a tad defensively, confusing Stiles slightly without him showing. “But you’re always standing against the wall when I show up. You weren’t here.. I just- Forget it.” The twin moved to push past Stiles, but he grabbed his wrist to stop him before he could get too far._

_“Did you want something? No offense, but I’m sure any of the girls you come here with wouldn’t mind doing what I do for free. I come with a price.” To emphasize the point of how he was selling sex to get by, he raised the McDonald’s bag. It wasn’t exactly something someone should eat for whatever chance at a meal they got._

_The look in the twin’s eyes turned to one of a predator locking eyes on his prey, and it sent a chill up Stiles’s spine. He moved forward towards Stiles, his hand gripping Stiles’s chin tightly before he could do anything about it. His eyes were even more green closer up, lingering on Stiles’s grease stained lips for a moment before locking with his own eyes. “Come with me,” he stated firmly before dropping his hand and turning around and making his way out of the alley._

_Stiles looked after him, wondering if the twin thought he would follow. He did anyway, bag of food and drink in hand._

_Things had been falling into place. Stiles had been in control of what was happening. At least he thought he had been._

* * *

This was definitely not the apartment. Stiles looks over the front of the house and sighs deeply, knowing exactly where they are. Of course Scott would drive him here. He couldn’t give him a day to relax before having to deal with the craziness that was about to unfold.

“Just remember,” Scott tells him as they climb out of the car. “It’s been nearly a year since we’ve seen you, dude. It’s been a year since we even knew you were alive.” They walk towards the pathway leading towards the front door. Stiles really wishes he was at the apartment instead. “So try to be cool. Don’t walk away in the middle of conversations. I, uh.. Probably wouldn’t smoke either.”

Stiles rolls his eyes as they stop in front of the front door, his shoulders rolling back as if he were preparing for a boxing match. “I only have one cigarette left until I can find a way to go to the store and buy more. I’m not going to waste it just so Lydia or my dad can yank it out of my mouth.” He raises an eyebrow at Scott just as the door is thrown open. Stiles turns to look at whoever it might be, but his balance is thrown off when someone tackles him to the ground.

This doesn’t strike well with Stiles, and he immediately manages to roll them over and pin the other person down, slamming their head into the sidewalk as they roll as well. Wide brown eyes stare back up at him, but the only thing Stiles is thinking is that he suddenly really needs a shot of vodka. Or maybe the whole bottle. He thinks about how it would be so easy to go on the streets tonight and get what he needs because he can’t deal with this right now.

When he comes back to reality, Scott has him pinned up against the side of the house and is trying to talk to him, get him to calm down. Stiles notices that there are a lot of people standing on the front porch now, three people on the ground. His eyes move over them before someone moves Scott out of the way and grabs Stiles shoulders firmly in an attempt to anchor him to the present. To here and now.

Stiles looks at who it is and inhales deeply when he realizes it’s his dad. It is his house after all, so it would make sense for the man to be here. But Stiles hasn’t seen him in so long that it hurts him to look at the man without sobbing. He doesn’t even register the fact that Erica could possibly have a concussion because his arms are wrapped tight around his dad’s neck while the older Stilinski murmurs about how it’s going to be alright now. He’s fine now. He’s home After a few minutes of making a spectacle on the front porch, Stiles is sure that his dad’s left shoulder is soaked thoroughly with his tears and all of the neighbors know that he is a mess when he sobs.

“So, Scotty. Maybe you should have told me to not attack any of them when they hugged me as well.” It’s a weak joke, one meant to break the tension. It doesn’t do so well, but Scott claps him on the back with a crooked grin to match his crooked jaw anyways. “Now someone better tell me there’s curly fries because I haven’t had them in way too long.” That comment earns at least a chuckle from everyone.

They all begin to make their way inside of the house, everyone tossing him a worried glance at least once. It makes him bristle slightly, like someone rubbed his fur the wrong way or something. His eyes stay locked on the ground because his fingers are still itching, and he wonders how hard it would be to go to a bar and get a drink without Scott knowing.

* * *

_1, 2, 3, 4._

The sound of the door to the loft being pulled open reaches her ears, but she doesn’t stop. Can’t stop.

_5, 6, 7, 8._

Footsteps echo in the room as they move towards her. She closes her eyes tightly and continues doing the crunches. Maybe they’ll go away. She really hopes they go away because she doesn’t want to talk.

_9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16...._

“You’re still healing. You should be resting.”

Of course they don’t go away. She’s started to expect less of her family, wonders when they’ll ever prove her right for once instead of wrong. Her eyes snap open, but the crunches don’t stop.

_17, 18, 19, 20._

“Is this about who they partnered you with?” She clenches her jaw, tries to go even faster. Sweat is starting to pool in her lower back, drip down her shoulder blades and collarbones. She doesn’t want to talk about this. She wants to continue working out even though the stitches in her side are pulling at skin. “He’s really good at what he does, you know.”

This makes her stop and twist to look up at him, her eyes narrowed. Her brother’s face is one of complete seriousness, and she scoffs at him. “Getting in too deep makes him really good at what he does, or the boner you have for him makes him really good at what he does?” She raises an eyebrow and twists back forward, beginning to do crunches once more. “They paired me with him because I’m babysitting him. Peter doesn’t want me back in the field so he’s pulling fucking rank by pairing me with the kid.”

“Cora-”

“ _Don’t_!” She says loudly, slamming her hands on the concrete of the loft’s floor. Her eyes are squeezed shut and her breathing is labored. “Don’t give me your fucking pity, Derek. I don’t want it.” Cora takes a deep breath before turning over and beginning to do pushups instead. She hears his trademark dramatic sigh before he turns to make his way up the stairs to his room. Her jaw clenches at the thought of what she’s going to have to deal with now.

* * *

The welcome back party lasts for at least four hours, and the itch in his fingers has moved to an itch everywhere. The crook of his elbows itch like they did before the first time Aiden convinced him to shoot up. His mouth has a bland taste and dry like he’s paired a few pills with a bottle of vodka. His skin feels like there are fingers ghosting over it, convincing him that everything’s fine and that it won’t matter if he takes a bit more than usual. He’ll be okay. They wouldn’t ever let something happen to him.

Scott snaps him out of his thoughts with a hand on his shoulder when he sees the way his knuckles have gone white on the grip of the glass of water. Stiles nods at him appreciatively and rolls his shoulders back in an attempt to relax.

“I think we’re going to head out guys. I’m feeling tired, so I know Stiles has got to be beat.” Everyone quiets down at Scott’s words, like they’re not sure how to react. He grins though and slaps the hand on his shoulder lightly before pushing his chair back to stand up. Stiles follows his lead, tensing slightly because of the awkward silence that echoes after them as they leave.

When they get outside, Stiles takes a deep breath, and his hands are shaking badly. The thing about being undercover for nearly a year is that you learn how to act when everything is fine. “I’ll let you smoke on the way home, dude. I’ll even stop at the gas station on the way and buy you a new pack as a welcome home gift.” And this is why Scott has always been his best friend, because no matter what happens or what changes, he’s always going to support him through everything.

“Thanks, man.” He pulls out the pack and lights the last cigarette before climbing into the car. Scott rolls the windows down enough to let the smoke out of them before he starts the drive home.

Stiles gets lost in his thoughts of the past ten months, slowly dragging in breath after breath of smoke to calm himself down.

* * *

 _“Where are we going?” Stiles eventually asked, first thing of fries gone. He really wanted to eat one of the burgers, but he couldn’t do that while walking. They were across the street now, heading towards_ The Wolf’s Den _. Stiles’s eyes combed over the people who were looking at him in disgust. He didn’t blame them, really, when the last time he showered was over a month ago. His teeth always felt gritty then, and oh, what he would have done to have a toothbrush._

_The twin glanced over his shoulder before stopping and waiting for Stiles to catch up. Then a hand was placed between his shoulder blades and he was being lead through the crowds in the club. He looked over everything: people were pressed against each other and dancing, girls were on different stages randomly throughout the club, dancing on poles or in cages but always topless. It made him scrunch up his nose slightly, but he didn’t tear his eyes away. He had sex almost every night, but it wasn’t good sex. It was sex to satisfy the person who was paying, and he didn’t even get turned on anymore at the thought of sucking cock._

_Before he knew it, the twin had led him to a door with two buff guys standing in front of it. Stiles blinked, seriously wondering if he was already getting closer than he thought he would in this amount of time._

_“Is he in there?” The twin asked, and one of the bouncers nodded before opening the door for him and Stiles. He received glances from both of the bouncers, but Stiles just continued to eat his french fries while taking in everything around him. He followed the twin into the room, though, and wasn’t stopped when he did so. The door closed behind him. They were in a hallway that led to another door. Stiles hummed as he took in the mirrored walls, tried not to flinch at his reflection. His hair had grown out slightly from the buzzcut he had in order to make his features look younger._

_The twin, he still didn’t know which one it was, opened the door that led to another room. Stiles’s eyebrows raised when he motioned for him to go first, and his heartbeat skyrocketed in fear. Why would there be any reason for them to kill him, though? No one even knew who he was._

_However, the room wasn’t an execution room. It wasn’t even a meeting room. instead, it was a bedroom of sorts. Stiles’s eyes took in everything they could, and then they landed on the actual bed. Which was occupied by people._

_A guy was leaned over a girl, back bare and exposed. His skin was a creamy white, not really pale, and stark, red lines showed the only imperfection. Stiles figured the girl had given them to him. A giggle reached his ears as soft whispers could be heard as well. He looked at the twin, who rolled his eyes slightly._

_“Ethan! We need to talk.” The girl let out a surprised noise and tried to cover herself up, but Ethan just continued to press kissed to the side of her neck while Stiles and Aiden watched. “Seriously. I’ll find you a nice whore to sleep with once we’re done.” This time, the girl let out an offended noise and pushed Ethan off of her before grabbing her clothes and shoes and pushing past Stiles and Aiden to leave._

_Stiles watched her go as he pushed two more fries into his mouth. His eyes lingered on the closed door as the twins had apparently began to talk. He didn’t even realize it until Aiden had snapped his fingers in front of Stiles’s face, bringing his attention to them._

_“Huh?” He asked, hand reaching into his bag for another french fry, but met with nothing but his burgers. So he pulled one out and began to unwrap it, sipping from his Dr. Pepper noisily._

_“What’s your name, kid?” Aiden asked, and his tone bordered on amusement. Stiles’s eyes flickered to him, and he blinked for a few seconds while taking a large bite out of the burger. Both of the twins waited patiently for him to chew and swallow, and it was almost like he saw understanding written on both of their faces. That was something interesting to look into._

_After swallowing the bite of burger and taking another sip from his drink, he finally answered the question. “Stiles. My name’s Stiles.”_

* * *

It takes them nearly an hour to get to the apartment, and Stiles has already smoked two more cigarettes from the new pack Scott bought him. The both climb out of the car, limbs heavy with exhaustion from the day. Stiles has a feeling that seems to be set deep in his bones. He tries to ignore it, because he can’t deal with that feeling right now. He just wants to sleep.

Scott seems to understand this because once the door’s unlocked and open, he lets Stiles make his way to his old bedroom without trying to strike up a conversation. Scott just cared about what was best for everyone, Stiles included. So if that means that Stiles needs to stay in bed for a week before doing anything, then he’ll let it happen and stop anyone who tries to change that fact. That’s why Scott is the best.

He opens his bedroom door and flicks on the light, the muscle memory kicking in. Everything seems to be about the same, though, so he closes the door with a satisfied click. His eyes scan over the room quickly, and he swallows hard. Everything’s the same in the room. Everything’s as he left it.

Everything but one thing. Well, one person.

“You are a hard man to find, Stiles. Did you know that?”

Stiles resists surging forward to- To do what, he doesn’t know. He can’t decide if he wants to punch him or hug him or kiss him or shoot him. Instead, Stiles crosses his arms and leans up against the door.

“That’s kind of the point, Aiden.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU not based off of canon Teen Wolf, but rather the Aiden and Stiles from an RPG. The twin's faceclaims in this RPG were the Harries twins, so when they are described, that is how they will be described.  
> The title comes from Lana Del Ray's "Dark Paradise", and this fic is for Yvvy! She is the Aiden to my Stiles, the Jaime to my Cersei, and probably a lot of other things. She has been a big support for me through a lot of things, and I know she screamed when she read the last sentence of this.  
> If you see something glaringly wrong with any of this, please don't hesitate to tell me because I am not by all means an expert in addictions. Thanks for reading! Kudos are very much appreciated, as are comments, reviews, and constructive criticism.  
> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://thenerdybrunette.tumblr.com) although I'm more often than not [here](http://justcallme-batman.tumblr.com) or [here](http://redhandedstilinski.tumblr.com)! You can come talk to me at any of these places, and I enjoy talking about anything and everything!


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